In the Darkest of Nights, the Moonlight Dims
by Methrindal
Summary: The Soul King was slain, and with it, the world of the Living, Soul Society, and Hueco Mundo collided with one another. The survivors of the Great War are left to pick up the pieces, even if their future is left hanging in the balance. Ichiruki, AU after the Blood War Arc. Rating subject to change.
1. Into the Night

**In the Darkest of Nights, the Moonlight Dims**

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 _A/N - Hello readers! Here is a new story I've been wanting to write for quite a while now. This piece takes place within the universe of Bleach, but is AU after the current arc. The circumstances, nuances, and intrigue will be revealed to you throughout the story. Please review if you could be so kind, so I can see if there is an interest in this story. I will try to update 1-2x a week depending on my schedule. Let me know what you think, and most of all, enjoy!_

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"What do you think you're doing?" Ichigo questioned as the icy particles chilled his face. "We need to get home _now_."

"Afraid of the dark are you?" Rukia asked, clearly making light of him in the best way she could.

Ichigo knew better than to fall for it. He had experienced enough in his twenty years so that one wouldn't liken him to a child's fear. "You know what comes in the night," he said. "We've no business risking anything tonight, supplies are low."

"Are you so sure?" She asked him. "We haven't seen any of _them_ around here for months."

"I just have a bad feeling, that's all," Ichigo said. "Remember the last time they attacked? We lost-"

"Don't." She cut him off sharply.

"Then you should know very well why we need to go back."

She understood quite plainly, though she would never admit it to him. Her restless hand found its way to the hilt of her white scabbard, drawing her zanpakutou halfway to make sure it hadn't stuck in the cold. She sheathed it with a clang.

Ichigo glanced at the setting sky with an uneasy worry. Nightfall is a gamble, and they are deep into the frozen woods where only the most harrowing of horrors reside. It is forbidden to the lot of them, but their mission was of importance, and of folly.

Rukia began to share her partner's unease. This was their second year in this new hell, and the hopelessness of it all was overbearing. It had been two years since _he_ killed the king, since everything changed.

Ichigo pulled on the thick black hood of his cloak. The wind's chill was ever growing. The familiar weight of Zangetsu hung at his back, proud and true. "It's going to be a long trek back," he spoke softly.

The two bode fairly well in the cool. The snow was almost up to their kneecaps, and each step was heavy and taxing. Even in the worst of times, they were both comfortable being in the presence of one another. It felt reassuring, no matter what.

Even so, it surely wasn't the dark they were afraid of, light of a joke as it were. Not until tonight, anyway. The sun's ever looming light was beginning to simmer down. There was something out there, waiting for them. Waiting for the right moment to take another away. It wasn't a hollow, or a common beast of the wood. It was something more sinister than that, something dangerous, and foreign.

It had taken Ikkaku last month while he was on watch duty, leaving only tattered remains and bloody gore.

It wasn't just the _Grendel_ they feared. It was bloody freezing.

The temperature was dropping by the minute. Ever since the worlds collided with one another, the seasons had been erratic, unstable, and especially severe. There were blistering hot summers, devastatingly wet springs, and worst of all, the long cold winters. It had almost been one revolution since the last winter began, and Ichigo couldn't remember a time where he tasted the supple of fruit or grain. He could only recall the taste of big game, and even that was becoming exceedingly scarce.

He looked aft to his companion.

Kuchiki Rukia. Black of hair, short of stature, and soft hues of blue in the eye. She was his lifelong partner, best friend, and most loyal companion. She had survived the Great War like he, even if out of pure luck. The God in his heaven had not the time for ants, as pesky as they would appear to be. In the end they were nothing more than what they were, ants.

Their time in the purgatory, as they had come to call this, had not been kind to them. Between the two of them alone, they could have aged a combined ten revolutions in such homely conditions. Gone were relaxed features of her face, the smooth, cream of her skin. In their stead was almost a thousand yard stare. Her brow was furrowed heavily, her mouth curved in an almost perpetual scowl, and her eyes dark and weary.

"How far do we have to go?" She asked him abruptly.

"Well, I don't know really." Ichigo admitted.

"The Captain-Commander will be furious."

"I will be sure to place the blame on you, then." He said while retightening his obi. "I didn't see you keeping track of time while we sulked through this frozen wasteland. For us to come back empty handed, that will be the true disappointment. "

"This is the furthest any of us have ever been out." She added. "He will not be disappointed in the slightest in that respect."

"Fools gold." Ichigo murmurs.

"Indeed, you are a fool." Rukia quipped. "But if we ever hope to expand what little civilization we have, we _must_ make it past this wood." She shivered as the wind pushed harder. Her companion took notice.

"Are you okay?" Ichigo asked with mild concern. He reached over and pulled her hood up and over her head. She gave a small pout at the kind gesture.

"I'm fine." She uttered softly, adding her unwilling thanks with a nod of approval.

Rukia gave a glancing eye to their surroundings. Nothing but the howling of wind and sheeted snow, the dead bark of tree, and the unnerving quiet of the lifeless wood. There is no life in this place, and they know why. The game and beast fled from these haunted grounds, and for good reason.

"A couple more miles, and we should be out into the clearing, and out of harm's way." He reassured her in spite of himself.

She bit her lip. "Is that so?"

Ichigo stared blankly into the dark. "Yeah."

She looked unconvinced, but pressed on anyway.

Their heavy steps left tracks in the thick sheets of snow, large enough for any novice tracker to follow. Instead of wearing the usual garb of a Shinigami, they now wore something much warmer, and much more durable. Thick, dark, leather boots warm their feet, and under their usual shihakushou, two layers thick of leather and finery kept their core insulated.

Ever since the collapse of the worlds, their invisibility began to fade ever slowly. Eventually they found themselves not as spirits, but as the same tangible being as everything else in the now unified world. Bar their spiritual pressure, they kept their abilities, their zanpakutou, their minds, but spirits and the living were now one in the same.

A shuffle in the distance caught the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks. She followed in his suit.

"Rukia?" His voice trembled uncharacteristically.

Her hand fell to her blade. "What is it?"

"Can you feel that?" He asked in a barely audible whisper. "Over there, beyond that fallen oak."

"I can't _feel_ anything Ichigo." She emphasized the word carefully.

"Think we should light a fire?" He spoke quietly. "They say the creatures are afraid of fire and light."

She nodded almost immediately. "I'll get to it."

They swept up the dry tinder from their surrounding area as quickly as they could. The hair on Ichigo's neck stood up in sheer terror and urgency, but he worked meticulously anyway.

The thick crust of the snow would prove difficult to get a fire started, but they would welcome the warmth of fire as much as it yielded protection from the demons. In the night they could only hear the rustling of dead leaves, the wisps of chilling wind, but _something_ was out there.

"Flint?" Ichigo asked.

She reached into her knapsack. "Here."

He took it and matched it against Zangetsu's steel. Sparks of fire spread over the tinder slowly but it grew even against the wind and wetness of the floor. He blew into the fire only once, in fear not to kill it. He had to let it breath on its own. Rukia reached over and added some more twigs to the birthing flame.

"That should do it," He said. "The fires growin'."

They both huddled around the light, for it was now all but pitch black in the wood. The moon now hung overhead, gifting what little light that it may. Ichigo scooted closer to Rukia for some of her own bodily warmth, but found her shivering in both maybe fear and chill. He took her hands in his with a gentle caring, and led them near the flame. She nodded, and spoke nothing, as no words were needed.

"We have to be more than close now."

She looked at him curiously. Sure enough they should be _close,_ but she didn't have a shadow of a doubt now. Something was waiting for them out there in the dark, creeping. It would not be to debase one's pride to admit they feared the creature. Fear was good, fear meant they still held their sanity.

There he saw it, out of the corner of his eye again. A pale shape in the deepest of the wood. Ichigo turned head to his companion, and tightened his grip on her calloused hand protectively. Zangetsu hung on his back, and he would be sure to use him if it came to it.

"Do we make a run for it?" Rukia finally spoke her mind.

Ichigo grimaced deeper than his usual scowl. His eyes were heavy with tire, his movements slower than their normal, and he could scarcely feel his own limbs in spite of the cold.

"The snow runs deep." He let a small smirk get past. "Think you can run in it?"

"Is that a height joke?" She didn't take much offence. "Well, you're probably right. Running will be nonetheless difficult for someone as petite as I."

"Figured as much."

The fire was waging a war against the blistering winds. It was a war that it would eventually lose, and they would have to make a break for it sooner or later.

"If I carry you, it will leave us with less than a defense."

She nodded in silent understanding.

"Check your blade for the stick, we are going to need it."

She did, and found it difficult to unsheathe. She pulled it out and held it over the fire while it still gave heat. "You will want to heat yours up too, Ichigo."

He pulled Zangetsu off of his back and looked at him appreciatively. More often than not Zangetsu saved him from the most troubling and dangerous situations, and today proved to be one of those times. He stuck Zangetsu into the burning flame.

Another sound came from the wood.

"It's definitely here." He admitted to himself. He drew Zangetsu from the fire, it shining red with heat, and he stuck him into the snow. Steam and the sound of hissing emanated from the icy sheath. He drew it out and inspected his steel. "Much better."

Rukia followed in his suit, and found her blade sharp and ready for cutting.

A gurgling squeal, a howling shriek. Human words couldn't describe the horrible sound coming from the dark where no eye could see.

Ichigo heard the breath go out of Rukia in something akin to terror. "It's here." Her voice cracked, and the few syllables she uttered were broken in pause. She held her blade, and pulled off her hood in hopes for better sight. The howling wind ceased, and but the otherworldly hiss remained.

Something loomed in the dark, and it was coming closer. It had watched, and waited, and now its wait was over. The shuffling of snow could be heard in the distance, the breaking of branches, and the lurches in its hoarse breathing.

Likewise, Ichigo's breath hitched, and he drew Zangetsu with all his might and heady bravery. The fire around them had been reduced to just a couple smoldering embers, the ashes of the burnt tinder and eddies of smoke dissipated and torn asunder.

The moonlight seemed like it was fading, its shines against his inhuman blade dwindling.

The growling ceased.

The wood was completely silent. All that could be heard in the night were the ragged, panicked breaths of the two friends. They looked at each other curiously, but Ichigo returned his stern and powerful gaze into the night.

"Is it gone?" Rukia spoke quickly. It was barely a question.

"No." Ichigo replied. "It's here."

For a heartbeat, there was complete peace and tranquil in the wood. The snow fell softly through the dead trees and comfortably to the ground, which looked akin to a beautiful painting. The moon hung high up in the night sky, as it always did and shone down to the mortal plane.

Then a set of eyes reflected brightly in the dying moonlight, and another, and another, and another. From them came a vicious call of something that could only be described as absolute horror, as it pierced the ears of the two travelers. In a second, it lunged from the shadow.

Zangetsu fell to the floor, shattered and broken.


	2. Winter's Rest

**In the Darkest of Nights, the Moonlight Dims**

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The weary travelers poured through the guard gates bearing sigils of foreign allegiances, well over three hundred strong. They were on horseback, carrying tattered banners, and bore blade of iron and steel.

Shunsui did not know any of these new guests, but he could surely understand why they have fled here. Theirs was the most fortified refuge still in existence, south of the wood. They were escaping something, and he had a good idea of what that something was.

A curiosity caught the corner of his eye.

There, at the front, he recognized him quite plainly. There was the blue-haired man at the head of the convoy, bearing himself a silvery white steed, and flanked by two guardsmen clad in steel plate. He continued to ride up, until the two met eyes. He dismounted from his horse with a grunt and eyed Shunsui carefully, and with a certain hesitation. "Kyouraku. In these darker times, even your bastard face is a welcomed one."

Maybe Shunsui could even say the same to him. Two years past since they fought together in that final fateful battle to dethrone the Usurper. Then, Grimmjow was more a feral beast than human. He had been clean shaven, with a hollows boney mask that shaped itself around his face in something liken of a jaguar's jaw. He was certainly powerful then, with all of the muscle of a beast too. Back then, he couldn't be trusted, or even depended upon in any great form.

Now times had changed, and it was clear to Shunsui that the conditions of late could remold and reshape even the hardiest of men. Gone now was the hollow encrusted bone mask on his face, leaving him but the shadow of a human, or as human as anyone were in this day. Shunsui had last seen this man on that final charge that led many good people into oblivion and straight to hell, and that's when the world's collapsed. He bore a beard of bluish color, coarse and rough that covered the expanse of his jaw now, probably to keep a low profile, hard may it be with a vicious mane like his own. Gone was the fire in his eye that he last saw when they were enemies turned ally out of direness and need, now replaced with a dull glint that unnerved even he.

Even so, here he stood before him, not just as a former ally, but as a guest, and so he bowed and spoke, "I humbly welcome you to our home, as such as it is."

Around them, others fell from their horses as well, unpacking crates and supplies from afar, and others sat idly awaiting order from their masters. One of the two guardsmen unsaddled himself from his armored sire, and extended out a hand in kind gesture. Shunsui took the man's hand in his and found the knight's grasp to be weak at best, to which he responded with a curious notion. "Oh?" He could smell out a women in any situation, a beautiful one at that.

She removed her steel-laden helmet, letting her wavy hair flow out in heady streams of green. She knelt before him in respect. "Nelliel Tu Odselschwanck."

Shunsui could remember her beauty in their final hours of the war as well. She slayed a great many Quincy that day, and she would be honored for it. Like her blue haired companion, gone was her mask and very mark of ever once being a hollow, as if she was ever one at all. She was milder mannered, and tempered in comparison to the lot of them. Grimmjow released her from her groveling.

"Are you the master of this frozen long hall?"

Shunsui snorted. "Frozen as it is, aye. I am the _master_ of this humble ground. What brings you so far up North, may I ask?"

"So far down _South_." He corrected him to Shunsui's surprise. "We packed our bags, took all of our abled people, and made the journey across the wood. There was no other option."

Shunsui tipped his conical hat in respect. "What news hail from North of the wood? We have never been able to pass that retched place, and just yesterday did we send our last recon. They have _yet_ to return."

"You will not want to pass that hell hole after you hear what I have to say."

"Bring all of your people inside, you are more than welcome to stay here," Shunsui said. "Lead your horses to the stable, and make yourselves at home. I will have the cooks prepare you a supper tonight."

"Your kindness is without warrant or restitution." Nel gave her thanks. "We will not forget this. We have lost many as it is, more than half of our people."

"The winter is hard here," Shunsui admitted. "But there is plenty for your people and more. Come, you have journeyed long, let me find you arrangements to your liking." He motioned for them to follow.

"Do not go north of the wood," Grimmjow told him as they walked along the patio. "There was once a time where everything was paradise. The warm summers of North were kind to us, and the growing season yielded us plenty. The fruits were of such a caliber that there was not a single persons starving or with hunger—grain, fruit, meats from the beasts, and milk from the cow, we had everything a man could ask for. The frozen wastes of the South where your people make their stay, paled in comparison to such majesty." Shunsui grimaced at such words, wondering of such a heaven. "And the beauty of the green fields!" he exclaimed, his eyes distant from reminisce. "And then _they_ came. In large numbers, an otherworldly beast gathered from seemingly nowhere, maybe even they crawled from the dirt itself. They destroyed our crops, ravaged our towns, and brought smoke and fire to our homes. And now we come to you, my old _friend_ ¸ to warn you of the horror that is to come." The man spoke darkly.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez had never been such a man as the one who spoke of eloquence, and in fondness of plenty. That was not a change that anyone could have predicted. No doubt it had a connection to what culminated from the changing of the world, from the melding of the three peoples, Spirit, Hollow, and Man. Admist all of this, he could not deny these people, and he worried even more for Ichigo and Rukia who had been sent out to seek civilization just nights before. In short time they reached their destination: a warm nook beyond the long hall's recesses. Shunsui turned to his privileged guests.

"We are honored to have you in our hall," He said with a deepened respect. The snow around them fell gently to the floor, a foreign thing to his new arrived friends. He could see them shivering in the cold, lest they ever admit such a weakness. He would fetch for them some warm leathers and cloth later, and see to it they are well fitted for the frozen times to come. "Your accommodations are well made out to you, I hope you find them befitting in your stay here."

He had his servant men tie their horses into the stable adjacent to their home, and led them into the finely crafted logged cabin. Nel and Grimmjow followed wordlessly, the former shivering from the permafrost's chill. It was otherworldly cold in the South, heavily contrasting the warm mild temperatures of the North, which was the most drastic of changes. Their footsteps thumped from contact with the wooded floor, and the two welcomed the warm heat of the heavily insulated cabin. The howling wind at the door's orifice ceased as Shunsui closed the door behind them, almost like sealing a tomb with rock. He lit an oil lamp that echoed through the room in quite a nice fashion. Their shadows danced across the walls revealing finely furnished ornaments and fashion within the cabin, clearly meant for a Lord or wealthy man. It was homely enough indeed, and equipped with soft furniture and even feathered beds upstairs.

Shunsui lifted the oil lantern in his guest's direction. "If you need any more light, I will fetch for some more candle and lantern."

"That would be good." Grimmjow said. "Nel has a penchant for reading and writing, not surprisingly."

Shunsui bowed his head silently and motioned for another servant.

"It's lovely." Nel said in remarkable wonder. "How did you build such places in this frozen world? It's like this place has been standing a thousand years."

"That's because it possibly has been standing a thousand years." Shunsui admitted. His eyes lingered on the hand carved decorations on the mantle of the fireplace. "Save for this place, and a number of other new crafts, we found this place abandoned and empty. A trick of fate, one might say."

"A stronghold empty and barren?" Grimmjow questioned. "A trick of fate, _indeed_." He took another lantern from the servant and lit it with a match. Neliel began to unfasten her armor, letting it fall to the floor with a thud. She wore finely knitted clothing underneath, something that a highborn would wear if there was such a thing in these times. "We had to craft and make everything from scratch, but with the combined efforts of the people and the resources laid before us, it was not an arduous task."

Shunsui gazed in mild wonder. "Mind my manners, Grimmjow, but where did you learn to speak of such eloquence without the aid of books and pen? You are a changed man, a man a shadow of his former self."

Grimmjow snorted. "I found myself a changed man after the cataclysm. I am who I am now, and that goes for any hollow who finally lost the chain of their mask which held them at bay. We can thank the new God for that at least, if we can thank him for anything at all."

"Is that so?" He set his lantern down on the desk next to him. "That is quite a wonder to behold, is it not? You are now a man of respect and honor, Grimmjow. I hereby offer you the services of the people of Winter's Rest, which is where you now reside. Make your people at home, enlist them in our forces, and have them serve you as they once did, for your lordship will be recognized here." He removed his conical hat to reveal his eyes truthfully. "I am no longer, the "Captain-Commander" of the Gotei 13, but a humble leader of the people. There is no more Gotei 13, and never will such a thing stand again." He put a hand on the shoulder of Grimmjow in a friendly gesture. "Let us make the best of what has been given to us."

He locked eyes in silence with the former enemy turned friend, and after a moment he reached out his hand for a shake, to which Shunsui returned. "Aye."

They had come together once before to fight a common enemy, and failed. As the world crashed down around them, they went their separate ways, but now they had been reunited in the same way, to face a common threat to them all. They were the first ones to make the trip through the wood and still live, that alone proved their worth. It was obviously clear what they sought was refuge and peace, and Shunsui would undoubtedly give it to them.

"In my dreams, I see the demons," Grimmjow admitted. "A thousand of my people, slaughtered like common cattle or sheep. We weren't prepared for what came to us, as they came in the night, bringing death, and leaving destruction in their wake. We made the journey here at the last second, as we had no other choice."

There was nothing Shunsui could say to console him. After a small quiet, he spoke, "A couple of the beasts have strayed from the wood. They took one of our own last month. They are isolated incidents for sure, as something seems to be keeping them northward."

"They took our homes, our peace, our paradise, our people," Grimmjow spat angrily, with Nel sitting quietly behind them. "If what you say is true, then we shall find a new peace and paradise here with you, for as long as that may be."

"I have not forgotten what you two did in the war," Shunsui replied softly. "For that alone, there is nothing I can do to ever repay you." When he did not immediately answer back, he said. "Tell me more about these, ' _beasts_ '."

Grimmjow shook his head. "They are a mindless, foul, and brutal creature. Their shrieks more foreign than anything you know, and they instill fear in the mightiest of people. If you had seen what they did, you would understand. They do not care if you are but a babe, or a woman, they slaughtered them all alike." He paused for a slight moment before continuing, choking up in his words. "Neliel and I… we bore a child….and..."

Shunsui could see the horrible grief in the warrior's eye, one that he had never seen before, or thought to see for that matter. He raised his hand for him to cease his story. "Please, you need not continue."

Grimmjow's mouth gave a horrid twist. "I will get my revenge," he spoke darkly. "Peace be with us, but until my last dying breath, I promise you, I will get my revenge. Against my own wishes, it means naught in the shame I bear, losing our first born son to a vile beast before he even lived two revolutions."

Shunsui could understand the man's shame and pain. Losing a child was worse than any dagger to the heart. It was something that pierced deeper than even the sharpest of blades, but there was one thing he didn't understand. "My friend." He treaded carefully. "You mean for revenge, against a mindless beast?"

The man sitting across the table caught him dead in the eye, his dull blue orbs twisting into something else. "I saw it." Every syllable lasted a lifetime, the very utterance of it causing the room to go dark. "It was different, not like the others. It took my child away, and it took the others away too, all babes. It was twisted, a black, shapeless mass of gore and filth, and it left its mark everywhere it went."

"Its mark?" Shunsui questioned, his interest undermining his own sense of sanity.

Grimmjow smiled darkly. "A story for another time, my old friend." He laughed not out of happiness, but out of trepidation. It rattled amongst the wooded walls of the cabin, his smile wicked and toothy. It unnerved Shunsui to say the least, but he knew better than to press on sensitive matters such as this.

"You must be very weary." Shunsui stood up. He bowed briefly before the beautiful Neliel, she already half asleep and curled up in the chair. "It's good to have you in our company. Get some rest, and we shall speak again with the morning's rise, unless you would rather enjoy some supper with us in the long hall. We will be serving meat of the hare with a porridge, and with some freshly fermented ale. That's a rare thing indeed here in the _South._ "

Grimmjow had since returned to his normal self. He bowed slightly out of appreciation. "We thank you for everything, and I hope you can find room for what is left of our people."

"There is more than enough room here in Winter's Rest, I can more than assure you of that." Shunsui motioned for his servant to open the door. The wind's chill once more escaped through and into the house, biting at the inhabitants with fury and rage. "A storm is coming tonight, you two best get a fire started, and warm yourselves by it, lest you freeze in the night."

Neliel was now breathing evenly and softly as the sleep had taken her just a moments before. Grimmjow eyed her with an easy gaze and returned head to Shunsui. He nodded his respects and placed his conical hat again on his head.

"I take my leave."

As Shunsui exited through the cabin's door, he was immediately graced with the presence of Ayasegawa Yumichika, who was presently on guard duty. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just fled from something horrible.

For a moment, Shunsui was filled with a terrible foreboding. This was something he expected soon enough, after the late return of his two scouts and longtime friends the day before. He looked at Yumichika in the eye, and breathed deeply against the chill of the wind and snow.

"It's Ichigo, and Rukia." The watchmen finally breathed out in broken sentences. "Come quickly, My Lord."


	3. Shelter

**In the Darkest of Nights, the Moonlight Dims**

* * *

He dreamt an older dream, of Rukia and of times more happy and of cheer. He dreamt of green grassy plains, luscious skies of blue, and of the paradise they found in Soul Society.

In the dream he was accompanied by another _friend_ which hung at his back. Zangetsu was his name, still full of life and as sharp as ever. He found him weightless and comforting in his presence, as he found Rukia so warming and equally endearing at her side. Ichigo had known this day well, as it was one he would never forget. It was the day before he went back to the human world, after he rescued Rukia from her execution, the day that inevitably broke the chains which held Soul Society together all these long years. In his memories, his _dreams_ , the world was as vibrant and beautiful as ever.

They found themselves walking along a dirt pathway which snaked its way through the endless oaks, they seemingly dancing to the music of the wind and relishing in the baby blues of the sky. Birds chirped, critters spoke to and from one another, and every other sound of the forest was alive and bright with life. Rukia bore a bright smile on her face, she no longer gaunt from her entombment in the Shrine of Penitence. No, now she was healthy looking, and still as beautiful as ever. He found himself memorizing every detail, every line and contour of her face, even if it were but a dream of a long distant memory.

"I was looking for you this morning," Ichigo said to her.

"Were you?" A sly and knowing smile crept upon her lips. "And why would you be looking for me at such an hour?"

"I was hoping to take you out for breakfast, you know, just for one last time right?"

"Is this not better than breakfast?"

"Point taken." Ichigo said after a pause. "Where the hell is this place we are going to anyway? We are still inside the Seireitei, it can't be that far can it?"

She looked at him with a funny smirk. "It's what you humans call a resort. You know, some place to get away from it all for a night or two. To _relax_."

"To relax?" Ichigo asked her dryly. "Why am I so terrified after hearing this?"

"Oh, don't be such a prude." She poked him teasingly. "Afraid to go somewhere private with a girl are we? You are a man now, Ichigo, best start to act like one!"

He smiled to her and she smiled back, and he found that he didn't want to leave this peaceful perfection. There was a certain vibe which flowed through them here, a vibe which was unspoiled and unbroken, unbent, and free to flow through them like birds in the sky. He admired the nature of it all, and when he found his eyes falling back to his partner, she was gone. A shadow had replaced her, quelling his happiness, and stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Ichigo," it echoed. The green of the forest fell dark.

Groaning heavily, Ichigo slowly opened one of his eyes after the other. Moonlight shone through the windows of the cabin which he lay in. Small, lit candles lay on his bedside, providing what little light that they could.

"Ichigo?" The shadow towered over his bed.

"What…where am I?" He was tangled in his bedsheets, his leg was throbbing in pain, and splinted. It was clearly broken, but at least he could still feel it.

"Back at Winter's Rest." The voice was a familiar one. The man held a piece of hardtack to Ichigo's lips. "Please, eat."

"I…" He was still delirious, but as soon as he smelt the stale, hardened bread, his mouth watered with temptation. He bit down on it hardily. It tasted better than the juiciest meats.

"Drink, my friend." He held a small cup up in kind gesture. "It's just water."

It had felt like a fortnight since Ichigo had the pleasure of water or food. His lips were cracked and dry with hunger, and his tongue almost shriveled in size. He drank from the cup eagerly, it washing the bread down his swollen throat.

"Rukia said you would be thirsty. She wasn't lying."

He gulped and breathed a sigh of relief and pleasure. The pain in his leg not bothering him one bit at the moment. He was certainly happy enough to be alive and well enough in good hands. He looked up more clearly at the man who held him shelter.

"Shunsui." Ichigo said. "Where is Rukia?" He cared little for his own wellbeing, it paled in comparison to that of his companion's. He had remembered the beast swinging madly at him, and then nothing else.

"My good friend, did you not hear me before?" Shunsui said. "She is more well off than you are, I can assure you of that." The man reached over and squeezed Ichigo's shoulder in a gesture of comradery.

Ichigo thanked whatever God that was out their silently. He doesn't know how they made it home, but he's thankful nonetheless. "Tell her I'm too weak to get out of bed, but I will come to see her as soon as possible. And…" He was about to sit up but blistering pain reminded him of his condition. He strained to speak. "I would be more than happy to see her, Kyouraku."

Shunsui motioned for a messenger who handed him a pot and a few cups. He took his leave a few moments afterwards. "Last I heard of her, she went to bathe and get herself cleaned up." He poured himself a fresh cup of tea, and another. "She was by your bedside for a good few days, my friend. You're lucky to have such a _companion_." He gestured the teacup in Ichigo's direction, who aptly took it without question.

His words made Ichigo's cheeks warm with a heat. He took a sip from the hot tea to match it. "It pleases me greatly to hear that she was not harmed. Tell me, I have no recollection of what happened after I lost consciousness."

"You will have to ask Rukia yourself." Shunsui said. "She has not fully come to terms with us, but I feel as if she was waiting for you to regain consciousness."

"That sounds like Rukia, stubborn but strong."

"I sent word for her of your awakening, I'm sure she will be more than pleased to hear of it." Shunsui stood up with a lurch, and he placed his conical hat on the flat of his head, and tipped it politely. "I unfortunately must take my leave, for I have some matters I must attend to. But I will see to it that you can walk on your own soon enough. Good day to you, Ichigo, and it pleases me too that we hadn't lost you."

The tall and curious man turned on his heel and disappeared through the shadow of the doorway, leaving Ichigo to his own thoughts. He leaned back a bit, and tried to prop his leg up a little to stifle the pain. He stared at the ceiling blankly, and let out a sigh of relief.

It would have to been a miracle that they both hadn't perished that night, for whatever attacked them was both ferocious and powerful. Ikkaku had perished without even a fight, so how was it that they survived as such? And Zangetsu…shattered and broken like a common man's craft. His long lost friend, once a powerful blade that rivalled all in its path, gone and forgotten. It was once said that he would be the one to protect everyone, but that was not to be. It was two against many, but even still he could do nothing to challenge their numbers with power. It was no coincidence that he should dream such a dream again after so many years. Dreaming of the past, something you do when you realize the faults of the present. A soft knock on the door shook him violently from his pensiveness. A soft voice, lovely voice…

"Still dreaming are we?" Rukia was saying when Ichigo returned his eyes to reality. She walked in, as beautiful as ever. She was dressed in warm silks, maybe even three layers, or more. He hair as dark as the night ever was fashioned up in a bun at the back, her bangs hanging down over her big, blue eyes. She was slender, appearing frail and small, but he knew she was far from such.

Ichigo pushed himself up just a bit, wincing in pain as he felt his leg throb horribly. He didn't expect Rukia to greet him so soon, but he wouldn't allow weakness to escape to her. He greeted her with a smile he rarely gave, and only to her. "Look at you…You are quite a sight for these sore eyes, if I may say so myself." He spoke coolly.

Rukia had definitely taken the time to dress and wash up. She was well aware of his gawking at her, but she also knew how badly he wanted to see her, just as she wanted to see him. In her hand she held a flask of what seemingly appeared to be wine. That was especially rare in these parts, as none was being made anew, and it only was served in the most special of occasions.

"So it appears to be." She said cheekily. She sat down next to his bedside, her eyes glossing over his wounded, splinted leg. "Did they give you any word on when you will stand again?"

"It's no matter." Ichigo brushed it off. "With everything I have to do around here, I'm sure Kyouraku will have me walking with a cane on the morrow."

Rukia laughed prettily at his brazenness. "Kurosaki Ichigo, hero of Soul Society, limping his way down the street with a cane? Oh, the Gods are kind to me I fear."

"Pour me a small cup of wine?" Ichigo requested with a strained voice. "I'm a bit wavy from whatever the masters gave me. Probably essence of the worm root." He rubbed the temple of his head fervently. "No wonder I dreamt so vividly…"

Rukia poured him a small cup, and held it out to him. "You dreamt? Do you remember what about?"

"Something." Ichigo said. His head was swimming in thought and pain, but he had to be strong before Rukia, as she was so strong before him. "It was about _us._ "

"Us?" Rukia frowned. "That's funny… I dreamt about _us_ the last night as well. Can you recall with any certainty?"

Ichigo nodded. "I can." He took a small swallow of the wine. The taste of the old vintage was strong in flavor, pleasing him greatly. "It was from the times we spent together after I rescued you. We were going somewhere together…" He thought hard trying to recall his dream, as it seemed so familiar yet so distant. "It was when we spent the night together before we departed back to human world."

Rukia caught herself in the middle of a sipping. "Oh, _that_ night."

"Yeah." He said dryly. "I don't remember the rest of the dream, there were bits and pieces that were missing."

"Is that so?" Rukia said shyly. "I don't remember much of my dream, other than that you were in it, and I _think_ it was about us. Given the nature of our near death experience though, I think it is more than natural, huh." She poked him in the chest playfully.

"Ow." He quipped. "Don't poke me there, I could have wounds all over my body for all I know!"

"You don't." She set her cup down. "After the beasts tore into your leg, something drove them away. It's like they were afraid of something. I can't explain it, but they fled, and let me drag your unconscious body all the way home."

"You _drug_ me home?" Ichigo burst out. "How the hell did you manage that?"

Rukia laughed heartily. "Oh, for someone so tall you're not so heavy after all."

He joined her in laughing as well. It felt good to laugh in these times, as it felt good to be around her more than anyone else. Not many people had survived the war, and even more were lost when the worlds fell apart. There wasn't a time he could remember where he didn't cherish the presence of Rukia. After these recent events, he would come to cherish them even more.

Ichigo reached for the flagon of wine and filled his cup halfway once more. "Remember the times we spent together in Karakura Town?" He sipped from the cup as his eyes went glassy from thought. "With Yuzu, Karin, and my old man. With Inoue, Tatsuki, and even Keigo." His eyes were distant now, and in them Rukia could see something sad. "Those days where we hadn't a care in the world, other than to get up and go to school, and to slay a couple hollows here and there." He sunk back deeper into his bed, his cup falling to his side. "My sisters… I miss them so much, and I know not if they are even alive anymore. There is a whole new world out there, an uncharted one that nobody has fully explored yet. And if they are alive, they are still out there somewhere in the cold." He finally set his cup aside, and stared into Rukia's beautiful bright, soulful eyes. "It's good to have you with me Rukia, it really is."

Rukia could feel her cheeks warm just a bit. "Ichigo…"

He reached out his hand for Rukia's own, and she accepted the small gesture of love. "Let's be more careful next time, shall we?" He tightened the squeeze on her small hand, and then released it. "Like it or not, we are here in this together, and I would like to _keep_ it that way."

Rukia's hand fell shakily to her side, as the gesture had unnerved her just a bit. She had noticed some time ago that he had been in pain from his leg. "I will fetch for the masters to give you something for your leg."

Ichigo groaned. "Please don't, I would like to keep my mind for the time being. I can bear the pain, you know I've endured worse."

She only nodded. "Would you like anything else? Anything at all, just ask for it."

"Just sleep will be fine, Rukia." He strained himself to speak. Even talking was becoming arduous. "I promise you I will be walking and in fine shape soon enough, don't you worry."

Rukia nodded and went to stand, and paused. "Oh, Ichigo." She started, turning to him again. "Did you know people from beyond the wood have come south to us?"

"People from the North?" He asked, straining to sit up once more as the conversation piqued his interest. Nobody had ever come from the North, and they didn't even know what was beyond the wood.

"Aye, and you wouldn't believe who their leader is…"


	4. The Boy who Destroyed the World

**In the Darkest of Nights, the Moonlight Dims**

* * *

He listened to the roaring of the night for quite some time, deciding on whether he should risk sleeping in such horrid conditions. If he fell asleep, there was a good chance he wouldn't wake.

Staying awake would be wiser, he knew. After all, he had crawled into this rocky cavern to escape from the bitter conditions of the wild, but he understood that the temperature wasn't the only thing to fear. He was already light on arrows as is, and that meant his defense was less than adequate. Just stay awake, he kept telling himself over and over, just stay awake.

If the bears and beasts did not kill him, the frostbite surely would. Even inside the refuge of this cavern, the temperatures were still so low as to be lethal. Oh, that would be wondrous _indeed,_ to wake up with frostbitten fingers. Such a thing would really render him defenseless. And to add to his ever growing list of grievances, he was getting light on resources too. Sure enough he still had a small flask of water he had gathered from the stream a couple nights before. He would have to use it sparingly to make it last much longer. Worst comes to worst, he would have to eat from the snow, which could be potentially lethal as well.

The dizziness continued to spread throughout his beaten and tired body. How long had it been since he ate? Was it almost four days since he slew that elk? His feebleness from lack of nutrients didn't stop at his ever draining energy. He was now beginning to get the shakes. Nevertheless it would be difficult to even nock his bow maybe once or twice.

But there wasn't anything he could do at the moment, except wait for the storm to pass, if it ever did. Down in these parts, it felt like such a thing was never ending. He was surprised there was any life here at all, but anything was better than where he came from.

Between his thirst, his hunger, and the hammering sensation in the thick of his skull, he was more than spent. This was definitely retribution for his past crimes, for his whole life filled with nothing but failures, and betrayal. If it came down to it, he would accept his fate with open arms, like an old, welcomed friend.

A squeak. A pitter patter. Something had taken refuge in the crag with him. He knew exactly what it was.

He pulled a small dagger from his belt. It was a jagged, poorly made thing, small enough to maybe kill a rodent or two, or to cut a throat in the darkness, but it would do. He waited silently, listening to the noises of the little creature with keen ears. It scurried closer and closer to him, unconcerned and disinterested with the starving man ready to devour him whole. He lunged for the festering rat, stumbling clumsily as it squealed in his hand, biting and thrashing wildly. Against all sense he bit into it with a bony crunch, ripping its head from its body. Its foot twitched as he carved what little meat he could from its bony, emasculated self.

The wind continued to howl at the peak of the cavern, with bats retreating inside to share company with its human occupant. The cave was the only shelter he had until morning, or at least until the winter's storm ceased. He had no method of conjuring a fire, no way of finding any comfort inside of the cave, except for the wet, jagged surface where the bugs and rats crawled to and from. Where he did find comfort was under the ever persistent gaze of his winged friends, hanging above him, sharing his cold misery. It was us against them, he thought to himself, the mentality which would sustain him until morning where the temperatures did not outright kill you.

He let his eyes close for a moment, and then they were open again.

Had he fallen asleep? Maybe, but for how long he could not tell. It was still night, he was still shivering, and the ever persistent windy chill bit at him from the outside world. His cavern lay unnaturally still, which unnerved him even more so. _Something_ inside the cavern had scared all the little creatures back out into the more than lethal cold.

The cavern was darker than black, as was the night, because the moon itself was blocked out by the storm overhead. He could not see or hear anything, but something must have made the others flee.

He unsheathed his dagger once more, and against his better judgement, he slowly crept deeper into the cavern. He could hear drops of water falling from the stalagmites above, to which he stuck out his tongue in thirst. Nothing had ever tasted better as the cool liquid touched his parched tongue.

And then he felt like he was about to pass out. The floor around him began to shake, and he was too woozy to get his proper footing. The rock under him crumpled and he failed to grab onto the ledge, sending him falling down below and to the floor with a hard thud.

He crawled around in a panic in an attempt to find his dagger and bow, but he must have dropped it up above as he was about to black out. He stood up and calmed himself and gathered his wits, as not to lose his sanity in a panic.

Unlike above, there was an odd light in this new place. It was almost as if the light illuminated from nothing. There were no torches, no holes in the ceiling to provide natural light. It was like magic.

He looked around, trying to understand what caused the floor to crumple under his feet, but he could not come to an answer. He was a logical thinker, and there could be no earthquakes in these parts, no sink holes. There was no natural answer for this, he presumed as much. The narrow and rocky pathway extended and winded down deeper into the cavern, much to his dismay. He looked behind himself. There was no way back up, and so he had only one path to take.

Slowly, he caved his way through the narrow passageway, and soon enough, he had barely enough room to extend his arms even halfway. The walls were moist with water, and jagged with rock. There was no sign of life down here, and if there was once, it was long since dead. He crawled to deeper into the craggy orifice, and soon enough he was left with barely enough room to even do that. The way was tight, and it showed no sign of giving way to anything more comfortable. But he continued to crawl, and crawl he did, as it was his only notion of surviving this ordeal.

All he needed to do was not let his curiosity get the best of him, he told himself. He should have heeded the warning of the creatures, but yet again he let human curiosity supersede logic.

His fingers now bled at the tips from pulling himself through cave. His kneecaps were beaten in, and he was nearing his limits. It felt like he had been crawling for hours, but he kept on anyway. If he went too far, the way might close itself off, and then he was really finished. He had survived the war, killed hundreds, fought many a battle, and found his death spelunking a cavern. He let out a morbid snort at the very notion of that. Maybe it was his fate, he thought. _Just desserts,_ maybe punishment for his past crimes. Or maybe the luck which had sustained his life up until now, just plain ran out.

His energy left him, and he fell still, crunched between the tight, painful walls of the hole he crawled into. His hand reached for his chest, which heaved in pain and lack of breath. His throat was dry, and with every swallow he could feel his throat tightening in failure. His lips were cracked, and dried to prunes. He remembered his friends in his final moments, the friends which he betrayed for his own foolish desires. He thought of _him._ "This is the fate I have chosen," the noise which escaped his throat was hoarse and sickly. He used to dream of past times of peace, and of his old friends. He hadn't seen any of them since the end of the world, but somehow he knew they were still out there, fighting for what's good in the world. He lay stiller now, his breathing evening out, no longer ragged from panic and tire. He had accepted his fate now, and he would greet it with open, loving arms. "Inoue, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything. Sado… Ichigo…" Tears fell freely from his bloodshot eyes now, tears of pain. "It's all my fault…"

He may have begun to hallucinate from his slow death, or perhaps it was something else, but a voice called out to him from deep into the cave. "Uryu, my boy." The cave whispered to him, its voice faint and tired, the voice of a withered old man. "Understand your past mistakes, and rectify them…you can still make up for the past…let it go…"

"It's all my fault!" Ishida cried. "Don't worry for me! This is the fate I deserve; this is the world I have created, let me die, Grandpa!" He could see his face in the darkness now; the face of his gentle old grandpa, viciously slain by hollows years long past. He was smiling softly at him, and he felt the tears beckoning him once again, but he could shed no more. He had chosen the way of power, one which blinds all who encroach on its treacherous path. He had gone so far as to betray all of those he loved, sacrificing all he had fought for up until that moment. He had chosen his pride over family, and for that, he was the destroyer of worlds. He bowed down to the Quincy god, showed him loyalty, and pledged fealty to the end of times. He had fought his friends, and even slain some in cold blood. He was even a kinslayer.

"It's all my fault." He said again, more weakly than before. _Your fault, and the fault of many others, my boy. You marched against your friends; you slew your father, my son, with your own hands. You are not without guilt, but you are still my boy. You can still follow the path of the just, the righteous, but the road is long and hard, and you must not give up._

The hazy vision of his grandfather faded slowly, leaving the man changed in its wake.

Ishida Uryu, kinslayer, destroyer of worlds, began his journey back to the light.

He pulled himself through the crag with what little energy he had left, his body shaking with every tug and grasp. Thrice he split his knee open or cut his arm on the jagged rock wall, but his determination was set anew, and he would not give up. He had to live; he had to escape this devilish place, for he still had a chance to alter his legacy.

Finally, the narrow way ceased, and it spread out grandiosely. The huge expanse of this old cavern was far larger than anything natural. It had to have been man-made, he thought to himself. The light was brighter now, enough so that he could see quite plainly the magnitude of this underground labyrinth. He stood now, shakily as he was, and limped through the cave with wide open and wondrous eyes. The walls were carved brilliantly and marble statues of old men were placed at even intervals throughout.

Once he moved closer to the end of the hall, he let out a gasp and fell to one knee at what lay before him. The final statue, centered in the middle of the rest, held a cross he was very familiar with.

It was his grandfather's five starred Quincy cross, or something exactly like it.

The old charm was covered in cob webs and dust, proving to him that it wasn't his Grandfather's cross, but another variant of it. Even so, it was something ages old, and he could not understand why something like it would be in this place, in this world.

He reached out his hand, paying his respects to the ancient visage, before pulling the cross from its stern grasp. He could feel its power resonating within him, something he hadn't felt since the changing of the worlds. It filled him with energy, and warmed his shivering body considerably. It enveloped him, like a steady stream of the softest water pouring over him in the most relaxing way.

He gripped it tight, and held it up high above his head.

And then from his hands, came a light brighter than the sun itself.


End file.
